


wouldn't have nothing (if i didn't have you)

by yugto



Category: Fire Emblem Echoes: Mou Hitori no Eiyuu Ou | Fire Emblem Echoes: Shadows of Valentia
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Best Friends Being Dumbasses (Together), Dancing, First Kiss, GiftsOfValentia, Love Confessions, M/M, Waltzing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-01
Updated: 2019-01-01
Packaged: 2019-09-26 20:30:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17148596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yugto/pseuds/yugto
Summary: Gray’s gaze darts over to Clair for a second, then he rolls his eyes. “Listen, thepointis that all our friends except us are dancing right now, so stop being such a sad sack and dance with me, Tobro.” He steps in front of Tobin, puts his hands out palm-up, and gives Tobin his most winning smile.In the end, Tobin’s never been able to say no to Gray (well, not for long, anyway). So before he can second-guess this idea, he says, “Fine, but I get to lead,” and grabs Gray’s hands.(Written for theValentia Gift Exchange.)





	wouldn't have nothing (if i didn't have you)

**Author's Note:**

> > _But I must admit it_  
>  _Big guy, you always come through_  
>  _I wouldn't have nothing if I didn't have you_  
>  _You and me together, that's how it always should be_  
>  _One without the other don't mean nothing to me_  
>   
>  — Billy Crystal & John Goodman, [“If I Didn’t Have You”](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fEqrt6nZTS4)
> 
>   
> Written for [@kirankon](https://twitter.com/kirankon) as part of the [Valentia Gift Exchange](https://twitter.com/fe15secretsanta). Happy holidays, friend! <3 

It’s the evening of Alm and Celica’s wedding, and the celebration is in full swing. A string quartet plays softly in the background, while nobles twirl around the dance floor. In the center of the dance floor, Celica is resplendent in her wedding gown, the white of her gown standing out amongst the bright colors of the ladies’ dresses. As Alm spins her around the floor, the long skirt of her gown flares out, and the tiny glass beads sewn into the skirt and bodice sparkle as they catch the light from the chandelier above. The two of them look almost like something out of a fairytale. As a singer croons, “ _The seasons turn, summer to fall – time's warm embrace begins to heal all_ ,” Tobin, leaning up against a pillar near the edge of the dance floor, finds himself tearing up, just a little. They’ve been through so much, but this scene almost makes the year spent on the march worth it.

As usual, Gray finds the perfect way to kill the moment. While Tobin’s over here actually, maybe, perhaps crying, Gray pops up at his elbow, dramatically wiping imaginary tears from his eyes. “Look at my kids,” he says fondly, “all grown up and the rulers of Valentia.” He adds a couple of loud, fake sniffles to top it off. A couple of noblemen chatting nearby pause to look at him curiously, before losing interest and returning to their conversation.

Tobin, unfortunately, does not have the luxury of being able to return to a different conversation. With no escape route in sight, he instead levels Gray with an extremely unimpressed look. “You are literally older than Alm by three months.”

“Yeah, but who was the only grown man who left Ram at the beginning of this entire journey? _Me_ , my man. That makes _me_ the default father figure of this group.” Gray reaches up to lean his elbow on Tobin’s shoulder. The three inches Tobin has on Gray make this endeavor pretty difficult, but Gray is somehow managing to make it work (and dragging Tobin down, just slightly, to his level.)

Tobin rolls his eyes, and scoffs, “Faye was eighteen when we left, too. Does that make her our mother?” Ignoring Gray’s indignant hisses of “That’s _different_ , Faye was too busy back then making heart eyes at Alm to be _anyone’s_ mother”, he shrugs Gray’s arm off his shoulder and scratches idly at the collar of his fancy dress shirt. On the dance floor, Alm steps on Celica’s foot, and the nobles break into titters. Gray, unbound by the rules of noble politeness (and, coincidentally, human decency), snorts loudly. Another, slightly more awkward wave of nervous titters ripples throughout the room.

“Why are you so _noisy?_ ” Tobin groans, elbowing his best friend in the ribs. “They’re trying to have a moment!” Undeterred by their friends’ stupidity, Alm and Celica continue making their way around the dance floor. (Tobin is impressed that Celica doesn’t seem dizzy or fatigued at all – it seems like she’s been twirling around for at least the last ten minutes, and shows no signs of stopping. Alm, on the other hand, looks like he could use a ten-minute break, or at the very least a cup of water.)

“Wanna dance?” Gray interrupts Tobin’s observations.

“Shouldn’t you be asking Clair to dance? Now seems like the time to do something like that.”

Gray gestures in Alm and Celica’s general direction. A few steps behind them, it appears that Clair has stolen Mathilda from a bemused Clive and is spinning her in circles. A little ways away, Faye has Silque’s hands in hers, and is attempting to teach her the steps of a simple waltz. “Clair’s a little bit busy right now. And look, even Faye’s dancing! If Faye and Clair are both dancing at Alm’s wedding, you can get yourself to dance, Tobone.”

“Faye got over Alm a long time ago,” Tobin points out. “And Clair has you now, doesn’t she?”

Gray’s gaze darts over to Clair for a second, then he rolls his eyes. “Listen, the _point_ is that all our friends except us are dancing right now, so stop being such a sad sack and dance with me, Tobro.” He steps in front of Tobin, puts his hands out palm-up, and gives Tobin his most winning smile.

In the end, Tobin’s never been able to say no to Gray (well, not for long, anyway). So before he can second-guess this idea, he says, “Fine, but I get to lead,” and grabs Gray’s hands. They're callused from years of holding first play swords, then practice swords, and finally the lightning sword Gray found in a treasure chest at the start of their journey and hadn't put down since. He grabs Gray’s right hand in his left, positions the other hand on his shoulder, and places a hand tentatively on the other boy’s back.

“Excuse me?!” Gray squawks, wrestling his hands free. He places them on his hips, radiating indignance. “I’m older, so I should obviously get to lead!” (His cheeks are also slightly red – Tobin chalks it up to his anger that he’s being led around like a girl.)

“I’m taller, so it makes more sense for me to lead!” Tobin counters. He rises up on his tiptoes, to emphasize his height advantage. Gray, unwilling to let that slide, grabs Tobin by the shoulders in a vain attempt to force him down to his level, and argues, “You’re taller by _three inches!_ ”

“ _Three inches that you don’t have!_ ” Tobin shoots back, leaning forward in an attempt to intimidate Gray. Their faces are only a few inches apart, and at this distance, Tobin can see every individual hair in Gray’s eyebrows (which is kind of gross). Gray’s gaze darts down to Tobin’s mouth for a second before he meets Tobin’s eye, waggles his eyebrows, and jabs, “Hey, you know, I make up for those three inches in _other places_ –”

At that moment, Kliff worms his way in between them, places a hand on both of their chests, and pushes them apart. (Gray and Tobin have both survived evil knights, and Terrors, and Jedah’s creepy goddamn eye monster things, but man, if looks could kill, both of them would be dead as a doornail from the glare on Kliff’s face.)

“You two are really making a scene right now? _Here_ , at Alm and Celica’s wedding? If you’re going to be this childish, take it outside.” He gestures up the stairs to the balcony.

 _Technically_ , as the youngest member of their little Ram Village crew, Kliff should not be able to tell the two of them what to do. But Gray and Tobin go upstairs anyway, because even if Kliff is the youngest, he is probably the one out of them with the most common sense. (To be fair, with the way Gray and Tobin act most days, and to say nothing of Albein Alm “I Started A War With Another Country Because I Didn’t Really Want To Talk Things Out” Rudolf, that is not a high bar to clear.)

On the balcony, it’s quickly apparent that the wedding festivities are not limited to the castle itself; in the streets, a festival is happening. Dressed in their best clothes, the people in the streets below flock to the booths that line the main street, exchanging coins for little snacks decorated in green and red sparkles. The castle gates are open, and peasants and nobles alike intermingle in the crowds flowing in and out of the castle. The sun has long since set; below them, bright and colorful lanterns line the streets, and above them, the stars shine brightly. From here, it seems like they can see all of Zofia, and as far as they can see, every light in the country is lit up in celebration.

Although no lanterns burn on the balcony itself, the lights from below provide enough light to show that for some unknown reason, the balcony is dotted with large stacks of supply crates. One crate next to the two of them seems to be chock full of oranges. Perhaps they’re leftover supplies from the war; perhaps Alm and Celica just have a thing for citrus fruits. Either way, Gray pilfers two oranges from the open crate and offers one to Tobin. “Want one?” he asks.

“Yeah, thanks,” Tobin says, reaching out to grab the orange. Their fingers brush briefly as Gray hands the fruit over, and Tobin suddenly finds himself thinking about the way Gray’s hands felt in his during their aborted attempt at dancing downstairs. Gray, on the other hand, doesn’t seem like he’s thinking about it all that much – he seems pretty focused on trying to get the entire orange peel off in one piece. They move over to the railing; standing elbow-to-elbow, they gaze out over the celebration below, and fall into an easy silence as they eat their oranges together.

“You know,” Tobin says, after their oranges are all eaten and they’ve swept their peels into a neat little pile on the railing, “I’m sure Kliff’s found someone else to scold at this point. You can probably go back downstairs now.”

Gray turns to face him, inadvertently knocking their pile of orange peels onto the floor. “And leave you behind? What kind of best friend does that?”

“Well, I was just thinking, don’t you want to go ask Clair to dance? She can’t possibly still be dancing with Mathilda,” Tobin shrugs. “Clive’s got to have stolen her back by now.”

Looking faintly pained, Gray leans back against the railing. “Tobin, my man, have we really never talked about this?”

“About what?” Tobin’s noticed that Gray hasn’t been hanging all over Clair lately, not quite to the same extent he had before their final battle, but he’d chalked it up to the fact that Gray finally got it through his thick skull that that wasn’t the best way to woo Clair. (He’d also, inexplicably, started feeling a little more cheerful once he hadn’t seen Gray hanging all over Clair. He chalked _that_ up to being happy that his moron of a best friend had finally gotten his act together.)

“I talked to Clair after the last battle,” Gray shrugs. “She thought about it, but… Well, she didn’t think it would work out between us. She said I should open my eyes and see what’s right in front of me,” he adds cryptically.

“Oh, gods. I’m sorry, Gray,” Tobin mumbles, wondering why he suddenly feels so lighthearted.

“It’s fine,” Gray says easily. “Means I get to spend more time with my best friend at this fancy shebang instead of hobnobbing with the nobles downstairs. Not really a hardship by any means.” He pulls at the collar of his dress shirt, and reconsiders. “Well, maybe wearing this shirt is a hardship. This collar is killing me.” Surprised by the joke, Tobin laughs, and Gray grins.

They stand quietly for a couple of minutes before Gray breaks the silence. “So, now that you know why I’m not asking anyone else to dance, wanna pick up where we left off?”

Downstairs, the orchestra strikes up [ a waltz](https://youtu.be/GIyUQrZedZI). Tobin’s out of excuses, and he’s pretty sure he’d be able to dance to this without tripping over his own feet – so he says “Fine,” and reaches out to take Gray’s hands in his.

“Ah-ah-ah, I asked you for this dance which means I get to lead,” Gray scolds, and positions Tobin’s hand on his shoulder before Tobin can even protest. His other hand snakes around to Tobin’s back, an equal parts comforting and disquieting weight on his left shoulder blade. “C’mon, Tobro, I’ll show you a good time.”

“Please don’t talk to me as if I’m one of the village girls,” Tobin grumbles, but lets himself be carried along. They move quietly for the first few measures, focusing on the slow rhythm of _right-left-right, left-right-left_. Gray’s hands are warm in his, and only slightly sweaty. (Or maybe that’s Tobin’s sweat. Oh gods, is he making this awkward?)

Gray pushes lightly at Tobin’s shoulder, expertly spinning him out and around a stack of crates. “Tobin, my man, I can hear your brain going a million miles an hour.”

“I, uh, I was just thinking about how Alm could take dance lessons from you. I’m pretty sure he’s been cycling through the same three moves with Celica for the last half hour.”

“Alm spent all his time as a teen getting his butt kicked by Sir Mycen,” Gray states matter-of-factly. “I, on the other hand, took a break sometimes to learn the finer arts.”

They move in a slow circle around the balcony, making their way back around to the staircase. Tobin realizes something, and asks, “Your sisters made you practice dancing with them, didn’t they?”

“Yeah, they did,” Gray admits after a long pause. “But hey, I picked up a skill Alm doesn’t have! Yet.”

“Wow, good for you,” Tobin deadpans. They sink back into silence as Gray leads them around the floor; Tobin’s brain wanders back to their earlier conversation, and he finds himself wondering about Clair’s talk with Gray.

“You’re still thinking about something,” Gray accuses him, steering him around a pillar. They change directions and start moving back toward the railing, as Gray continues, “Live in the moment, man! Stop overthinking things!”

“Fine, okay, I’m thinking about what you said earlier,” Tobin says. He pauses for a few measures, counts out _left-right-left right-left-right_ while he gets his thoughts in order. “You said it was fine that Clair rejected you, but you spent the whole war trying to sweep her off her feet. Are you sure you’re okay, man?”

“Listen, Tobes, Clair and I talked about this. I like her a lot, and she’ll always be really important to me – but if I’m not what she wants then I’m not gonna be that ass who won’t give up.”

“Are you serious?” Tobin asks incredulously, as Gray spins him out again. “She told you that you deserved better than her, and you told her that made you love her more than ever!”

Gray reels him back in, shooting back, “Yeah, and then she told me later on that we would never work out because I was too blind to see what was right in front of me!”

“You said that before, but I don’t even know what you _mean_ ,” Tobin retorts, before his foot slips on something. As he loses his balance, the scent of oranges fills the air, and he realizes as he falls that he’s slipped on their stupid pile of orange peels. He braces himself for a painful collision with the stone floor, only to come to a halt mere inches from the ground.

Gray bends over him, holding him close in a precarious dip. Their faces, for the second time this evening, are only a few inches apart. They hang there, frozen in time, before a shadow of _something_ crosses Gray’s face. His eyes dart to Tobin’s mouth, then to his eyes, then back down to his mouth before he leans forward and kisses Tobin.

Or, well, he tries to. Tobin gets startled and jerks forward, and their teeth clack together painfully. Gray drops Tobin to the ground and reaches up to cover his mouth, letting out a string of muffled curse words. Tobin lies there speechless for a few moments before he wheezes out, “What the _hell?_ ”

Gray cuts himself off mid-curse and reaches down to help Tobin up. A trickle of blood runs from his upper lip, and he swipes his tongue across it; Tobin finds himself unable to tear his eyes away. Shaking his head in an attempt to clear it, he leans against the railing, still a little unsteady from 1) being dropped on the ground and 2) the kiss that definitely almost just happened.

“The thing that was right in front of me was _you_ , you moron.” Gray’s face is red, and his lip is still bleeding, and he’s rolling his eyes, but he looks impossibly fond in that moment. “And Clair told me that I was a moron for never realizing it.”

“What–”

Gray covers Tobin’s mouth with his hand. “I’ve been in love with you and your stupid pretty face the _entire goddamn time_ , asshole! Stop interrupting my confession and let me finish, jeez.”

Tobin closes his mouth.

“Ever since we were kids, we’ve been best friends, and battle partners, and even eternal rivals,” Gray continues. “And even though we’ve got all that history, it took a girl who’s known us only two years to help me figure out how I felt about you.”

The lighthearted feeling from before returns in full force, and it seems like a swarm of butterflies has temporarily taken up residence in Tobin’s chest. Suddenly, all the pieces click together – this whole time he’d thought he was jealous of Gray, when he was actually jealous of _Clair_. The full force of his realization hits him like a punch in the gut. “Oh gods,” he mumbles, still muffled by Gray’s hand.

“Shut up, I’m still talking, this is embarrassing so let me finish,” Gray hisses. “You were always right in front of me, Tobin. It’s always been you. And I don’t know if you’re still hung up on Clair, or what – I don’t know if you even feel the same way, but I just –”

Tobin decides that he’s been listening to this talk for long enough, and reaches up to move Gray’s hand away from where it’s still covering his mouth. “Of _course_ I do, idiot,” he breathes, and leans forward to kiss Gray.

This time, their teeth don’t clack together; Gray responds to Tobin’s kiss as if he’s been expecting it, as if he’s been waiting for it for gods only know how long. Tobin melts into the kiss embarrassingly quickly. Behind them, fireworks explode across the sky, marking the end of the celebration, but they go completely unnoticed. Tobin’s hands wind up in Gray’s hair somehow, and Gray reciprocates, and both of them lose track of time until –

“Tobin, Gray, are you two still up here? The party’s about to end – oh gods, you assholes, when I told you to take it outside, I didn’t mean for you two to _make out_ up here,” Kliff yells, and does an abrupt about-face, almost sprinting toward the stairs.

“So, uh, which of those counts as our first kiss?” Tobin asks, as they make their way down the staircase behind Kliff. Kliff is power-walking a few steps ahead of them, the bright red of his ears standing in stark contrast to the white of his hair.

Gray slips his hand into Tobin’s and gives him a shit-eating grin, swinging their linked hands between them like they’re a couple of five-year-olds again. “Oh, definitely the one where you gave me a bloody lip. I’m telling all our friends about it for the rest of time.”

“I can already tell I’m going to get sick of this story.” Kliff sounds exasperated, but it’s tinged ever so faintly with fondness. “Gods, you two are going to be even more insufferable now that you both know.”

Both Gray and Tobin skid to a halt, chorusing indignantly, “ _Wait, you knew?!_ ”

Kliff doesn’t even turn around to reply; he keeps moving forward as he says, “Anyone with _eyes_ could see it, you morons, Clair was just the only one of us kind enough to put you out of your misery. Now come on, let’s get downstairs so Gray can tell your terrible, embarrassing story to everyone we know.”

“Aw, Kliff, you know us so well,” Gray beams. Laughing, Tobin lets Gray pull him down the stairs toward the brightly lit ballroom, as Gray calls, “Hey, Alm, Celica, you won’t believe what just happened!”

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is me trying to fix everything the epilogue said happened because _please_ Gray and Tobin are in love (this accidentally ended up being mostly Gray in love with Tobin and Tobin being a dumbass who needs things spelled out for him, but whatev)
> 
> The waltz songs the orchestra plays are both from Echoes – [Heritors of Arcadia](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CzKptJ9VIiE) is the beginning waltz for Alm and Celica, while [The Voice That Calls You](https://youtu.be/GIyUQrZedZI) is the waltz Gray and Tobin dance to at the end.
> 
> As a sidenote, you know that one [interview](http://sailforalittle.tumblr.com/post/36821044738) where Eddie Redmayne talks about how he learned this incredibly complicated period dance for one scene in _Les Miserables_ and he couldn’t do the dance to save his life so he just picked Amanda Seyfried up and started [swinging her around](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=maty1iiphNE&feature=youtu.be&t=23)? Yeah that’s Alm in this fic
> 
> Anyway yell at me about Gray/Tobin on twitter [@tsunberto](https://twitter.com/tsunberto)
> 
> Once again, Kirankon, I hope you enjoyed this, and happy holidays! <3


End file.
